


The Stages of Chaos

by Rei (RoarOfTheEarth)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Aged-Down Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Baby Prompto Argentum, Dad!Cor, Developing Relationships, Father-Son Relationship, Other, Possible future pairings - Freeform, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, baby!Prompto
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 07:44:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19330153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoarOfTheEarth/pseuds/Rei
Summary: ”The Emperor is praising all Garleans today for being steadfast in their belief our great nation of Niflheim would win this war.”Insomnia had fallen.The war was over.The Tyrant King was dead.





	The Stages of Chaos

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Katheart_2017](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katheart_2017/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all: Shut up, I know I said I was gonna wait but I like giving people nice things. And I really _like_ this idea.
> 
> Secondly, I posted a poll around 2 weeks ago that received 40 votes, over 50% of which asked for another Dad!Cor fic. I had also been dabbling with an idea supplied by Katheart_2017 who offered up a suggestion that I formed this from. (You're being gifted this to make sure you see it since it sprang up from the prompt you left. <3)
> 
> This probably isn't perfect, I'm sorry for any errors, but I finished actually writing it while at work and wanted to hurry and post it.  
> We'll see where future chapters lead it. I already have a vague idea of where it's going to go.
> 
> ((Markus speaks with a Russian accent in my head, if that helps you visualize him.))

“Nox!” the bartender greeted him as he walked through the door. His accent was rough, and the Garlean grated on his ears, but he walked closer to the bar as he was summoned forward. “My friend,” the man laughed, grinning from ear to ear. “It seems you won’t have to worry about rejoining the military after all.”

Leon Nox stared at the bartender, a small frown hovering at the corners of his mouth. He’d been in Garlea barely three weeks and already this man, Markus; had deemed him worthy of the title ‘friend’. It felt wrong to him, a lie covered in more lies. Markus liked him for reasons that still bewildered him. He was usually considered unapproachable, cutting too serious and harsh a figure to be considered ‘friendly’ by any means. Leon mostly chalked it up to be because he’d thrown two assholes out of the bar shortly after he’d wandered into the place for the first time.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, taking his customary seat at the bar, his back pressed into the corner so he could turn and look around the room.

Nearly a month ago he’d arrived in Garlea from Tenebrae. Former military, though possibly looking to reenlist. That was the story. A not so very amazing soldier, but he got the job done. No blemishes on his file except for disorderly conduct when he’d been younger. Markus thought he should have a drinking problem, but he only ever had one a night before heading back to the hotel where he was staying.

“The war!” the Garlean bartender shouted cheerfully. “It is over! We’ve won!”

For a moment, Leon thought he’d heard the man wrong. His Garlean wasn’t the best, he spoke with an accent but for the most part, he understood everyone else even if the language was like listening to rocks going through a grinder. He stared at the man hard and realized he was expected to mirror the bartender’s smile. He didn’t.

“I’m not following.”

Markus gave an exasperated sigh and turned to the TV that was mounted on the opposite wall. He flipped it on. “I can’t believe,” he murmured as he pressed buttons on the remote. “That you haven’t heard the news yet!”

Twisting in his chair, Leon turned to look at the TV. “I’ve been working all day, Markus. I have to earn money to spend on your nasty beer.” The man laughed, and Leon gave him a small smirk, but it died quickly as the volume was turned up on the television.

 _”The Emperor is praising all Garleans today for being steadfast in their belief our great nation of Niflheim would win this war,”_ the male voice blared out the speakers. _”Video visual has confirmed that the Crown City of Insomnia has fallen.”_ A shaky video feed from a dropship covered the screen, showing the Citadel, the largest building in Insomnia. It was on fire. Other parts of the city could also be seen set ablaze, buildings crumbling. There were flashes of light, small explosions going off before the recording cut off and the newscaster returned to the screen. _”We have also just gotten confirmation that the Lucian King, Regis Lucis Caelum, is dead.”_

Leon felt the drink being shoved into his hands and glanced down at the glass. Within it, the amber liquid rippled.

“Drink my friend!” Markus cheered. “For this blasted war is over, and that Lucian bastard king is dead!”

His life, Leon realized as he lifted the glass to his lips. Was about to get a lot more difficult. It also made a lot more sense now, why the security in the city had been doubled, why they were looking for every Lucian or Garlean that even remotely supported the idea that Lucis should be left alone, that this war was senseless. His ID had been checked four times as he’d walked back towards the hotel district, with the officers eyeing him until they saw the star on it that marked him an officer of the military. They’d stop spitting questions then and saluted him. He was fortunate, he supposed, that Garlea respected it's military more than it thought it had a security problem.

Because Leon Nox had been a prisoner who had escaped with the help of a Lucian traitor. He’d brought with him Lucian reports and field results. Things that could be used to find a better foothold on Lucian territory. Reports that likely helped in this ultimate defeat of Lucis. Markus slapped him on the back and grinned because even though he hadn’t been one of the ones fighting on the front lines, he’d helped end the war.

Leon smiled and kept his scream caged behind clenched teeth. Lifting his glass, he looked at Markus. “To the Empire.”

Markus laughed and lifted a glass in return, clicking them together. “To the Empire!”

Leon had an extra drink that night. Markus insisted and he didn’t want to offend the man. At the same time, he had a thousand questions rolling through his head and not a single answer. He had information, sensitive information that could get him in a hell of a lot more trouble that needed to be sent off. But that all depended on if he could get it to the right people or not. Dropping the last of the alcohol that was in his glass down his throat, Nox stood up, popping a cigarette into his mouth. It was an excuse, a way to wave off another drink and ‘head home’ because Markus didn’t like smoking in his bar, he frowned at Nox every time he lit one of the things, but he did it anyway as he walked out the double doors, calling a quick ‘goodnight’ over his shoulder.

Sleep. He needed sleep, he decided. Perhaps in the morning, he could make more sense of what was going on but he doubted he’d sleep well. He still had an objective and he’d continue to work towards it, but he couldn’t do anything with his findings until he figured out what the hell was going on.

Rubbing his face in annoyance, he made his way into the hotel, flashing his badge at the front door to be let in before going up the elevator to his floor. It was only as he raised the keycard to slide through the door lock that he realized he was shaking. He frowned at his arm and reached up with the other to clasp it.

“I’ve been awake for two whole days,” he reminded himself, trying to drive back the anxiety that was creeping up his spine and into the back of his throat. Panic was a moth in the back of his mind, fluttering about and hitting itself against a light source it was bewitched by. Paranoia started after that, and he slid his eyes down the hallway to check and see if anyone was there.

No one. He was alone.

Pushing the door open, he stepped inside but the feeling of safety that he’d first hoped for was nowhere to be found. Instead, he felt more trapped than he had before. He locked the door and removed his shoes before allowing himself to fall face first into the bed. He breathed in deep, closed his eyes and willed himself into a void of calm control.

He was a soldier. He didn’t panic. He didn’t shy away from the unknown. All his life he’d known nothing but war. He wouldn’t show weakness at the first sign of it possibly ending. He bid himself into a quiet calm state and let his mind drift towards sleep.

* * *

He dreamed of fire, screams and the world crumbling around him.

He woke to sweat drenching his back and a hammer destroying the inside of his skull. Groaning, he rolled out of his bed and turned on the TV only to stare at what he had thought was a dream. The ticker at the bottom of the screen read off ‘The War is over!’ while a picture displaying King Regis Lucis Caelum was displayed on the screen. Then the same shaky footage he’d seen at the bar played, showing the Citadel burning, pieces of it breaking off and people scattering in different directions below.

Insomnia had fallen.

The war was over.

The Tyrant King was dead.

He still had work to do.

Standing, Nox grabbed his coat, ignored the shower and made his way out into the cold Garlean morning.

The streets were still dreary, no matter how often they blared across the speakers around the city that the war was over. People cheered, people cried, people rejoiced. They hugged in the streets, sang songs and raised mugs of beer. They celebrated, and Nox pushed passed the crowds towards the wall that ringed the city, the snow crunching under his feet.

Shiva’s death had brought an eternal winter upon the city, but despite that, now that they had won the war, things were looking up. Maybe with time, they could return their home to what it had been. Not that Nox had much hope for that. Garlea had always been a dreary, poverty-riddled city. The Empire had made sure of that, but the people stayed, if only because they had nowhere else to go.

His work took him outside the city walls however, into the snow-covered stretches of land surrounding the city. Like a white canvas waiting for the painter to take up the brush. In the distance, covered in snow, was what he was looking for. Stretches of town, once busy with life now dead and deserted. Most figured the people who’d lived there had fled once the snows had come. Nox figured it was something else. He’d heard the stories of the ‘vanishing sickness’ while he’d been held in Lucis. How the people would just disappear and the villages would die. Now was his chance to see for himself, just what had happened, and if it tied in with the other information he'd gathered.

Nox walked for an hour before he finally came across a town, the snow piled high at doorways that stood open like dark mouths. Each one was as empty as the last, clothes discarded on the floor, plates with long decayed food still on them. One house had been set on fire, though it seemed the snow had extinguished the flame before it could spread further than passed the kitchen.

The first indication he had that there was still something living amongst the wreckage of the village was when he found the remnants of a firepit. It wasn’t fresh, but it was maybe only a few days old. It was only lightly dusted by freshly fallen snow and even some of that had melted away due to the heat from the dead coals.

With more caution now, he continued to explore the houses. One, in particular, caught his interest as he entered. It was still serviceable as a place to live. Blankets had been tacked up over doorways and windows to keep the chilly air at bay. There was no stench of rotten food, or dust covering every surface. Taking a few steps inside, Leon looked around. Maybe whoever had left that firepit behind lived here? The thought to call out crossed his mind, but something else; some other sense, told him not to. Instead, he froze in place and listened. 

He heard the floorboards creak and moved before putting too much thought into it. The dagger hidden inside his coat flashed into his hand as he sidestepped. The… thing… attacking him let out an angry hiss as the blade sliced across its skin, rearing back.

It was human, or at least part of it was. Half of its face portrayed that of a young man, probably in his late twenties. His hair was brown, his visible eye a mossy green. He wore a dirty white coat that ended near his knees, tattered and stained. It wasn’t the human half that Leon really paid attention to, however. It was whatever the fuck else it was going on with the once human.

The left side of its face was covered in purplish-black slashes. Like festering wounds eating away at the skin. Pitch drained from one eye that had changed from mossy green to molten gold, and the corner of its mouth was pulled back into a sneer; showing off blunt teeth. The hand he’d cut was in similar shape, covered in darkness and where Nox’s dagger had laid open the skin now bled black, a strange miasma hovering near the wound.

Something tickled in the back of his mind. He knew what this was, but before he could grasp at the memory, the creature lunged for him again. He deflected the black, claw-like fingers as they raked at him, sliced at the thing but it quickly scuttled out of reach before coming right back, all snarls and gnashing teeth. The dagger was too short to do any real damage, and he doubted throwing it would bring the creature down. He loathed to do it, but as the thing readied itself for another lunge, Leon reached into the other side of his jacket and drew his pistol.

The thing paused for a moment as if it had a second of clarity. Leon hated the gun, didn’t want to pull the trigger. He hoped the thing would regain some form of sanity, if only for a moment. The astrals deemed the creature unfit for such mercy, and with a crazed sneer and a vicious snarl, it lunged.

The muzzle of the gun flashed and within the confines of the small house, the gunshot was deafening. The creature jerked to a halt and stood there as black blood dribbled from the dark, round hole in the middle of its forehead. For a moment, as it stood there, its eyes didn’t look crazed anymore. Maybe it was just him hoping the thing understood somehow, as it slumped to the floor, that he’d only killed it to protect himself.

With a sigh, he dropped to his knees beside it, careful to only touch it with gloved hands as he shifted it onto its back. Within the pockets of the white coat, he found a packet of gum, several pens and an old, beat up ID card. Moving to the door for more light, Leon looked the ID over carefully.

Part of it he couldn’t make out, but the creature he’d shot had at one time been human. A human named Viktor Argen. Or that was what he could make out from the badge. He’d been an Imperial researcher. Placing the badge back on the man’s body, Leon continued looking around, albeit a bit more cautiously.

It was when he passed through the kitchen into what had once been a bedroom that he froze again. The sound came from in front of him this time however, so he took a chance.

“Hello?” Another shuffle, a small movement. “I’m not going to hurt you.” The sound that followed his statement sounded a lot like a snort. It was deserved, he supposed. He _had_ just shot some… _thing_ in the other room. “That wasn’t my fault,” he grumbled and then wondered why.

“It doesn’t matter.” The voice was faint and tired sounding, as if they’d already given up long ago. “We’ve been dead for months now. It was just a matter of time. We just didn’t know what would get us first. The sickness or Besithia’s men.”

A woman. The voice he was hearing was a woman’s. “Besithia?”

There was a long pause and then movement. “You’re not one of Besithia’s men?” She sounded skeptical and Leon couldn’t pinpoint where she was in the room.

“I’m not.”

Another long pause. “Don’t shoot me,” she stated firmly. “And if you do, don’t miss because I _will_ punch you.” She waited until he agreed and then off in a corner he saw movement. She’d been hiding near a door that either led to a bathroom or a closet, he wasn’t sure. Her movements were slow, and somewhat pained. When she made it close enough to a window to pull the blanket back, he discovered why.

Blonde and fair-skinned, at one time she’d been beautiful. Now dark fingers trailed up her throat and curved across her cheek. Both of her eyes were molten gold with black obscuring that what that had once been there. There wasn’t much difference between her and the man in the other room aside from the fact that she at least seemed to still be sane.

“Is… Viktor…?”

Leon’s mouth thinned and he sighed. “I’m sorry. He attacked me. I thought for a moment he’d stop but…” he trailed off, unable to give the woman any kind of support.

She shook her head, glancing towards the other room. Viktor’s body was thankfully not visible from the doorway. “He’s been in and out of it for days now,” she confessed. “Talking to voices only he can hear, seeing things only he could see. It was only a matter of time before he turned on us, and I didn’t have the strength to stop him.”

“Us? Are there more of you?” It was an innocent enough question, but when she froze up, Leon tried a different approach. “Who are you?”

“Natalie,” she murmured. “Natalie Argentum. Viktor was my husband. We were researchers for the Empire.” She paused and stared at him expectantly until he realized she wanted his name in return.

“Leon Nox,” he offered. “Just a curious soldier.

“Oh, I can see you’re a soldier,” Natalie stated, frowning at him. “But you’re not Garlean. Who are you?”

He went stock still and stared at her, trying to decide how to handle the situation. He could kill her, but she posed no threat to him truly. Not in her current condition. When he opened his mouth to simply repeat the lie, she raised her hand.

“I’ll be dead before the night is over,” she told him with a weary smile. “You don’t have to continue to lie. I won’t be able to tell anyone. Besides, every Garlean soldier knows who Verstael Besithia is.”

Leon stared at her, fighting with himself inwardly. He could tell by the way her shoulders sagged that she was losing the battle she fought. He could at least grant her the one request of not lying to her.

“Cor,” he murmured finally. “Cor Leonis.”

“Astrals above,” she breathed, then reached out more quickly than he would have thought her capable. “You… You’re from Lucis,” she whispered, her voice growing more frantic. “The truth. The King and Shield have to know the truth!” She turned and frantically started digging through boxes.

Cor watched her in silence, unsure how to tell her that the King was dead and Insomnia had fallen. He kept silent and waited because she hadn’t asked him yet if Insomnia still stood, so it wasn’t a lie.

“Viktor and I were sent here undercover by Lord Amicitia to investigate the research facilities. We got infected at some point, by the Starscourge,” she broke off into a coughing fit, black blood splattering across her hand. “Dammit!” She frowned down at her palm and sighed. “We thought they’d forgotten about us. Did they send you to get us?” She gave him a weak smile. “Sorry you can’t, but at least we can send what we found out back home.”

Cor stayed silent as he watched her shuffle boxes around, gathering up papers and files. Deep down there was a part of him that wanted to tell her the truth. To tell her there was no point, that Insomnia was in ruins and the men that had set them all on this impossible task were dead. He couldn’t. Not when he could see her death forecasted like the weather. Not when knowing he was Lucian too had brought such hope to her disfigured face.

He couldn’t.

“Here,” Natalie murmured as she placed the stack before him. “Viktor and I took notes on what we couldn’t steal. The rest we have papers attached to, explaining everything. It…” she paused, took a deep breath and sighed. “It wasn’t good, Leonis, Sir. They were-” she broke into another coughing fit. One that robbed her of air until she shook. When Cor stood, she waved him away. “Listen to me,” she wheezed as she sat, leaning herself against the wall. “There’s something else besides the papers, besides the notes.” She wheezed again, her eyes going a bit glassy for a moment before she seemed to shake it off. “N-iP01357-05953234,” she rattled the code off as if the memory of it was emblazoned in her brain, a small smile crossing her withered face. “Code Name: PROMPTO.”

“Prompto?” Cor questioned, confused.

“That’s what Vik and I started calling him. We… we were going to take him. Try to get him back home…” she trailed off, eyes going glassy again. When her gaze trailed slowly back to him, it seemed to sharpen and a vicious snarl ripped from her throat.

Cor stood immediately, fingers inching towards the gun hidden in his jacket but no sooner had he touched the grip than Natalie seemed to break out of whatever spell she’d been under with a gasp.

“He’s in the back,” she whispered, breathing hard. “Take him and the papers and leave.” She paused, her eyes lingering on where he had his hand tucked inside his coat. “May I?” When Cor hesitated, she smiled weakly. “Leave one in the chamber, if it makes you feel better.”

Quietly, Cor emptied the gun before sliding one bullet back into the clip, cocking it carefully before going to gather what she called ‘Prompto’.

Prompto was a boy. A small, probably less than a year old boy, with a head full of blond hair. He was sleeping soundly, not even waking when Cor picked him up. When he walked back into the other room, Natalie had pulled out a bag and was shakily stuffing it with papers. Cor took over the chore and watched as she whispered goodbye to the sleeping child.

When he stood at last, sleeping child in one arm, bag on the other, he offered her his pistol.

She took it with shaking hands. “Thank you.”

He just grunted softly and turned. “I’ll take good care of him,” he promised and meant it. He had nowhere else to go. No one else to offer the child to, so it was his. He said nothing else and didn’t look back as he made his way out of the abandoned house.

He didn’t look back at Viktor’s body.

Nor when the sound of his pistol firing one last round echoed across the silent, snowy landscape.

He stared straight ahead and walked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note, I'm not sure how Starscourge would affect people. I know it is supposed to eventually turn them in daemons, but I figured I'd play around with it since we only ever see most people half-turned and being mini-bosses from hell. (Fuck you Ravus. You bitch. I love you. ୧༼ಠ益ಠ༽୨ ) So they are kind of zombie-like. (Sorry if that's a turn-off... depending on how it's received it may not show up again.)
> 
> ((Also sorry for lack of general updates at all. It's been storming on and off here like crazy so I've been left writing in notebooks, which has to be retyped. So everything's going kinda slow at the moment. BUT FEAR NOT. I'm not dead or dying. ((Yet.)) )) ((I literally saw lightning strike the same place 4 times yesterday. I don't know what was there, but something up above said "fuck you in particular".))


End file.
